


Have I Been Too Discreet?

by thegoldhopeful



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, shoujo bullshit, this is so sweet it gave me cavities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 07:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5366711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegoldhopeful/pseuds/thegoldhopeful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamaguchi Tadashi is content to keep his (probably) unrequited crush on his best friend a secret. Unfortunately, life isn't that simple. It's hard to be a teenager in love.</p><p>In which Yamaguchi has bad luck, Hinata and Kageyama have a fight, and Tsukishima has trouble communicating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have I Been Too Discreet?

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written yamatsukki and also the first time I've written something so sweet and cutsey. I hope you all enjoy.
> 
> I'd like to thank Linda and Marco for their beta skills and also for listening to me ramble about anime at one am.
> 
> The title is from the song 'Can You Tell' by Ra Ra Riot, which I highly recommend you listen to for this fic in particular and unrequited angst in general.
>
>> Oh have I been too discreet?  
> How long am I supposed to wait?  
> I think about you nightly.  
> Oh can you tell I'm losing sleep?

“Yamaguchi, I need to talk to you after practise,” Tsukki says as he heads out of the classroom, crouching his spidery frame down so Tadashi is confident that only the two of them can hear his words. Tsukki doesn’t wait for him to reply but stalks out of the classroom, placing his headphones over his ears as he goes.

This is odd. In all the time he had known Tsukki, Tadashi only remembers him asking to talk twice. The first time was when they were both thirteen and Tsukki’s grandmother had died after five years of battling lung cancer. They’d all seen it coming, but that didn’t stop her death from hurting Tsukki, and Tadashi has always felt Tsukki’s hurt like an arrow in his side, even if the taller boy doesn’t. The second time had been at the end of last year, when Tsukki had asked him what high school he would be attending. Tadashi had thought he’d saw the shadow of an expression, which, on anyone else, would have been called doubt, but it was gone as soon as he’d blurted out, “Karasuno!” and Tsukki’s face had snapped back to its usual disinterested frown. Tadashi still wonders sometimes whether Tsukki’s being so concerned as to actually ask to talk to him about their future, even such a trivial step as high school, had meant something. He’s been getting better at convincing himself that it was nothing. Normal friends talked about their future together; didn’t they? There was nothing odd about that. Tadashi tries to put the fact that being friends with Tsukki has always been like reading tea leaves out of his mind and picks up the mop.

Even as he cleans the floor, Tadashi can tell he’s overthinking the situation. He’s definitely not focusing on actually cleaning and the strip of wet floor behind his mop is wobbly and messy, with little puddles where he has pressed too hard and dry patches were the mop has actually left the floor. He bumps into one of his classmates, who gives him a strange look but doesn’t mention anything. Tadashi is grateful for that. He doesn’t need to be reminded of how strangely he’s acting, doesn’t want to think of the implications of his getting so worked up over one simple sentence. It’s unacceptable, unreasonable, and impossible.

Clean-up feels like it’s taken forever when Tadashi finally shoulders his bag and trudges out of the classroom, Tsukki’s words still ringing quietly in his ears. It’s like having tinnitus, only with Tsukki, he thinks, and mumbles, “Tsukki-tinnitus, Tsuinnitus-”

“Hey, what’s tsuinnitus?” Hinata appears out of nowhere and practically body slams into Tadashi, who only keeps his footing due to his superior height and weight. Hinata may act like an overenthusiastic puppy, but he is still tiny, and his attack is ineffective. He walks just a bit too close to Tadashi, and every couple of steps turns to look at him, his face moving in and out of the immediate vicinity of Tadashi’s armpit. When Tadashi backs up, Hinata fills the gap unconsciously, effectively herding him towards the clubroom. On any other day, he would be struck by how much Hinata resembles a puppy: not just at first sight, but all the time. It’s almost inhuman. Today, however, he’s stressed and on edge, mentally balancing between his real and immediate concerns and the nagging feeling in his gut. “Yamaguchi, what’s tsuinnitus?” The redhead asks again.

Shit. Tadashi hadn’t really registered the question the first time around, having been too focussed on not toppling over. He hadn’t even realized he’d said it out loud. His mind shifts into panic mode, a whirling hurricane of “he can’t know he can’t know he can’t know he can’t know.

Tadashi blurts out the first lie he can think of, “It’s a kind of infection, and I’m worried my dog has it because she threw up pink puke last night.”

Hinata is stunned into silence for a second. Crap, Tadashi thinks, that was so lame; he’ll never believe it. Then Hinata’s face scrunches up in disgust, “That’s kinda gross. You should take your dog to a vet.”

“We’re taking her tonight,” Tadashi replies, mentally releasing a sigh of relief.

Hinata, however, isn’t done, and, as they reach the clubroom, he leaps through the door, almost hitting his head on the lintel and yells, “Yamaguchi’s dog has tsuinnitus!” for everyone inside to hear.

Tadashi almost has a heart attack.

Fortunately, the only person in the clubroom is Kageyama, who scowls and Hinata and replies, “That’s gross dumbass,” before going back to changing.

Tadashi thanks all the gods he can remember for the fact that Kageyama’s incredible volleyball skills were taken out of his allowance of brains. He changes quickly, Hinata and Kageyama’s bickering making a pleasant background drone that manages to overwhelm the thoughts spinning about in his own head. Practise is only two hours long, he thinks, and then I don’t have to worry about it anymore. Just two more hours.

Practise goes about as well as can be expected. Most of the team is in reasonably good form and dealing with them occupies most of the coach’s attention. Tadashi excuses himself to practise his serves outside where no one can see how many of them he fumbles. Sugawara-san gives him a concerned look as he disappears out the door with a basket of older volleyballs but Tadashi ignores the older setter. Tsukki, he notices, doesn’t so much as glance his way. That’s not odd at all, he tells himself, Tsukki only ever focuses on his own practise. And besides, it isn’t as if Tadashi is doing anything odd. He is a pinch server, practising his serve is the most normal thing he could be doing. Still, in the greater part of two hours, he doesn’t make more than ten of the serves he attempts.

 It’s dark by the time Daichi-san calls practise to a close, and the streets are quiet as Tadashi walks home, a few steps behind Tsukki. It’s so normal that he could scream. Tsukki is acting as if he didn’t know his words had shaken Tadashi’s world. Maybe he doesn’t know, Tadashi thinks miserably to himself, there’s no reason he should. This whole situation is beyond salvaging and he’s such a coward that he can’t even tell his best friend that-

 “Yamaguchi,” Tsukki says, stopping in front of him but not turning, “you think too loudly.”

 Tadashi knows this is an invitation to talk about it and as close as Tsukki will ever get to asking Tadashi about his feelings, but he can’t bring himself to give in to it. “Sorry Tsukki,” he mumbles.

 Tsukki’s demeanour doesn’t change but Tadashi can tell by the tightness of his friend’s shoulders that Tsukki isn’t pleased with the response.

 They walk the rest of the way to Tadashi’s house in silence. Tadashi is too busy thinking himself in terrible circles to notice how brittle the quiet has become. When they reach his gate, he doesn’t go up to it; instead he swallows and looks at Tsukki, who turns to face him, hands in pockets, golden eyes as unreadable as ever.

 “You said you wanted to talk to me about something?” Tadashi asks, the statement lifting into a question of its own accord.

 “Yeah,” Tsukki replies and pauses for a moment, eyes glazing over in thought. “Would you like to come to my house for a while?”

 “Sure,” Tadashi says. This will be okay; you’ve gone over to his house loads of times when you were younger, he tells himself. Just act normal; he won’t notice anything if you just pretend to be how you always are.

 He’s still trying to convince himself of this as he quickly dashes into his house to inform his mother of his last minute change of plan and as he and Tsukki walk to Tsukki’s house.

 The Tsukishima residence is a quiet building just two blocks away from Tadashi’s house. It’s a comfortable home, with pictures of the family smiling from the many frames that adorn the living area. As they pass through to Tsukki’s room, he knocks one of the frames over, placing it face down with a clack. The picture is of him, age ten, holding a well used volleyball and sitting beside his older brother, who holds his jersey. They both look so happy in that picture, but Tadashi has never asked why Tsukki hates it so much. He has knocked it over every time they’ve entered his house since their first year of middle school.

 They go straight to Tsukki’s room, which is quite plain, the only decoration being a couple plastic dinosaur statues on a shelf and Tsukki’s volleyball jersey. Tsukki sits down in his desk chair and crosses his legs. Tadashi takes the bed, nervously perching on the very edge of the mattress. The air is thick in the quiet room, and, looking into Tsukki’s eyes, Tadashi knows he can feel the tension as well.

 Then Tadashi’s eyes widen in shock. Tsukki looks more nervous than Tadashi has ever seen him, and when he notices Tadashi’s prying gaze he scowls and looks away. The motion is comically similar to the one used by the most popular girl in Tadashi’s class when she wants to seem interested in someone, but not that interested. He bites back a giggle, and Tsukki gives him an accusing look.

 “Sorry Tsukki,” Tadashi says, sounding more gleeful than he intends and still trying to push the image out of his mind. The tension seems to dissipate a bit.

 Tsukki sighs, and its back almost as quickly. “Yamaguchi,” he says looking at his feet, “I have a favour to ask you.”

 “S-sure,” Tadashi replies, unable to keep the stutter from his voice. Tsukki has never asked anything even vaguely resembling that question before. “Ask anything you want.” He only has a moment to mentally kick himself for how desperate that sounds before Tsukki starts speaking.

 “I want to practise confessing to you.” The sentence comes out all in one breath of air, and he stares at Tadashi once he’s said it, eyes boring golden holes into his skin.

 “L-like love confession confessing?” Tadashi asks, stutter clearing this time.

 Tsukki nods.

 “Practise confessing your feelings with me?” He asks again, just to make sure.

 “Obviously,” Tsukki replies, his pale cheeks reddening slightly.

 “Okay,” Tadashi says, “okay, but I’m just going to go to the bathroom first.”

 It is literally the lamest excuse in Tadashi’s long history of lame excuses, but he can’t bring himself to care. Everything feels very distant as he practically falls out of Tsukki’s room and stumbles to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Once inside, he locks the door, flips down the toilet lid and sits down heavily, resting his head on his knees.

 Three things are painfully obvious: first, Tsukki has feelings for someone; second, those feelings are so strong that he’s actually planning on confessing them, and, third and worst, those feelings are obviously not for Tadashi.

 He can feel two and a half years of painfully hidden crushing on his probably straight best friend crumbling around his ears. It’s not like he hadn’t considered this possibility, hadn’t expected it, but now all the emotions he hadn’t been able to admit to having hit him. It’s devastating. It’s pathetic. Pathetic. He hears the word in Tsukki’s derisive voice. You are truly pathetic, Yamaguchi Tadashi, breaking down in your best friend’s bathroom over a crush that was never going anywhere in the first place. He’s obviously worried about his romantic life; hell, he likes someone so much he actually wants to practise confessing to them, and you’re making this all about you and your stupid little feelings. You’re a miserable excuse for a friend.

 Pull yourself together, Tadashi tells himself; none of this is about you. Stop being such an asshole, and go help Tsukki. He hastily rubs the unshed tears from his eyes and splashes cold water on his face. He stares himself down in the mirror; because of his dark skin, his face isn’t even any redder than usual. The delicate skin around his eyes is a bit puffy, but not enough that Tsukki will notice. He’s so observant though, Tadashi’s inner critic starts to say, but he banishes the thought before it can take hold. Tsukki is busy worrying about his own problems; he won’t be thinking about Tadashi, definitely not. He tries a cautious smile, but it looks wonky and fake. Suck it up Tadashi, he tell himself, you’ve already been in here for too long. It’s not like he’s stupid enough to believe that you just needed to do a really big turd. He’s not Kageyama.

 Wait. He’s not Kageyama. He probably knows.

 The reality of the situation finally hits Tadashi. He’d run off way too quickly and with such a terrible reason that Tsukki had probably already figured it out by now. There was no way that he could have interpreted the actions any other way. Tadashi sits back down. He reanalyses the situation. Tsukki knows Tadashi liked him, but he doesn’t like Tadashi and has just effectively asked him for dating help. Maybe he’d known all along… Tadashi shuts down that thought as fast as possible, visualizing a big iron door with a padlock and lots of chains closing over it.

 There are only two options left, Tadashi thinks. He can either stay there and live the rest of his life in Tsukki’s bathroom and avoid seeing him again, or he can go out and face the music. As appealing as the first option seems, Tadashi knows it was just a fantasy. He stands, straightens the collar of his jacket, makes a determined face in the mirror, and unlocks the door.

 When he re-enters the bedroom, Tsukki is sitting in the exact same position as he was when Tadashi left, but his school bag has migrated from near the door onto the hook by Tsukki’s closet and one of the dinosaurs is facing the opposite direction. It’s obvious Tsukki has been fiddling.

 Tadashi sits down on the bed again, careful to make it seem as if he’s sitting comfortably. “So who are you going to confess to?” He asks, trying to sound casual and praying that Tsukki won’t mention his abnormally long toilet break.

 Tsukki immediately breaks eye contact and looks at his feet; it’s almost painfully obvious that he’s trying not to seem as if he’s hiding his face behind the collar of his jacket. That only lasts a moment and then he straightens out and looks at the door. “I don’t want to say.”

 Tadashi waits for him to say something more, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t turn to face him either. Tsukki has always had trouble holding eye contact, and he was never able to find the happy medium between staring and looking away. These days, he always chooses to fix his eyes somewhere else. Tadashi likes that about him, it’s nice to be able to talk and not feel like a spotlight suddenly illuminates everything he says. With Tsukki, a conversation was never an interrogation. Still, the habit wasn’t going to get him a girlfriend.

 “Maybe you should start by looking at the person as you confess,” Tadashi suggests. Good, that’s a pretty reasonable romantic suggestion. He combs his memory for more advice. Most of his romantic experience has been through either TV dramas or Tanaka’s grisly account of how Suga-san and Daichi-san had started dating just before the start of the school year: not really the best basis. “Actually, sometimes girls find it cute when the guy stares off into the distance as he confesses, but only in the distance is scenic. Like you can’t do it in the classroom where the only thing is the blackboard, then you’d just look disinterested.”

 Tadashi realizes he’s babbling and stops himself, waiting for the ‘shut up Yamaguchi’ but it doesn’t come. Tsukki is staring thoughtfully at the door, as if he’s carefully considering everything Tadashi is saying. The expression is completely foreign to Tsukki’s face, smoothing out the harsh surfaces of his forehead and cheekbones and making him look gentler.

 Stop! You can’t think like this, Tadashi tells himself. You’re never going to have him, so what’s the point in investing your heart in something that’s already lost? The more sensible side of him points out that he’s way too far gone to fix in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Suga-san’s, but Tadashi ignores it.

 “You could bring flowers,” he rambles on, “some girls like flowers, but if you overdo it you might embarrass her and then she’ll never go out with you. I think just one flower would be most romantic.” He chatters on about some other details of romance, mostly just spitting up things he’s learned from the TV shows his mother likes to watch.

 “Yamaguchi,” Tsukki interrupts him, still staring at the door, “can I practise what I’m going to say?”

 It’s a surprisingly gentle sentence, not tinged with Tsukki’s trademark apathetic mockery. Because his tone is so neutral, Tadashi almost wonders is he sounds scared. Almost wonders, but not quite. There’s no way Tsukki would be scared of anything.

 “Y-yes,” he stammers, reeling a bit from the interruption.

 Tsukki breathes in and then exhales a controlled stream of air; he does the same with when he serves, or at least when he really tries to serve. The actual confession turns out to be stunningly anticlimactic. It’s more of a ‘you’re pretty, date me’ than an actual confession of love.

 Tadashi is at a loss for words for a moment, then he gathers his wits and says, “Maybe, maybe if you…”

 Tsukki whips his head around to glare at him, but the expression is empty of malice; Tadashi can tell he’s just doing it to keep up appearances.

 “Sorry Tsukki. But if you, you know, talk about your emotions a bit more, and tell her how you feel,” he gestures helplessly, “it would be more effective?”

 Tsukki considers this, “okay.”

 Tadashi expects him to start over, but he remains silent, staring at his feet.

 The sudden grating sound of a car pulling into the gravel driveway startles Tadashi and he jumps. It’s later than he thought, if Tsukki’s mother is coming home. “I should go,” he says, “it’s getting late.”

 Tsukki doesn’t say anything as he accompanies Tadashi to the door, both of them greeting Tsukishima-san on her way in.

 Tadashi doesn’t really know what to say. Should he wish Tsukki good luck, or would that annoy him? “Sorry Tsukki,” that phrase at least is familiar.

 Tsukki gives him a confused look, but Tadashi continues before he can say anything.

 “Sorry for giving bad advice. I hope you succeed.” He flees the Tsukishima residence before Tsukki can reply.

 Tadashi takes the long route home, circling the nearby park. What kind of friend says ‘I hope you succeed’ to someone trying to get a girlfriend? And he couldn’t even tell Tsukki how he felt, couldn’t tell his best friend about his feelings until it was too late. Pathetic. Just pathetic.

 He doesn’t eat much at dinner that night, and ignores his mother’s worried glances, leaving the table early and heading straight to bed. Sleep, however, continues to elude him, and all he can hear are the same words rolling around his head like the tide. Pathetic. Pathetic, Tadashi, you’re a fucking disgrace.

 Tsukki isn’t at the corner where they usually meet the next morning, so Tadashi waits a few minutes then continues without him. He finds the taller boy already in class, headphones over his ears and a vacant look on his face. He doesn’t remove the headphones when Tadashi passes in front of his desk, so it’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk. He remains in the same position until the bell for the first class rings. It’s pretty clear that he’s not paying attention in class either; he’s got his notebook open and pen poised to write, but Tadashi doesn’t see it move once.

 “Yamaguchi-kun,” the teacher interrupts his thoughts, “would you like to share what’s so interesting that you’ve chosen to stare at it rather than at the board?”

 “No sir,” Tadashi hastily replies and ducks his head as if to avoid the smattering of giggles.

 “Well then pay attention.” The teacher returns to his lesson.

 As soon as the lunch bell sounds, the headphones go back on and Tsukki is out of the door like a shot. By the time Tadashi is finished packing up all his books, the blond is long gone. He checks all their usual haunts, and even goes so far as to find Hinata and Kageyama, who are idly bouncing a volleyball between them near the gym, and ask them if they’ve seen Tsukki. They haven’t.

 “He’s so tall,” Hinata comments, blowing out his cheeks and thankfully clinging to Kageyama this time, “you’d think you’d be able to see him over everyone else’s heads, like a brontosaurus.”

 “It’s not a brontosaurus, stupid,” Kageyama says, “it’s a triceratops.”

“Triceratops were the ones with spines, I’m talking about the one that’s tall,” Hinata argues.

 “No, stegosaurus have spines, and triceratops are the tall ones.”

 The conversation quickly devolves into argument. Tadashi doesn’t have the heart to tell them that the dinosaur they’re both trying to refer to is the brachiosaurus.

 Tsukki remains MIA for the rest of the lunch hour, and Tadashi eventually gives up his search and returns to the classroom to eat his bento alone. Maybe he’s confessing now, Tadashi thinks, maybe that’s why he ran off so fast. You’ve got to stop thinking about Tsukki so much, he tells himself. This isn’t good for you.

 The bell ending the lunch period rings and Tsukki stalks through the classroom door at almost the exact same time. He’s wearing the same disinterested expression as he was when he left, so Tadashi isn’t give any clues as to how Tsukki had passed his lunch period.

 The afternoon passes uneventfully, and Tadashi is able to get a bit of work done.

 Today, Tsukki is on cleanup duty, and he ignores Tadashi as he pulls a cloth out from the cupboard and starts wiping down the desks. Tadashi heads off to practise. This early in the afternoon, the clubroom is bustling with activity, all the other members of the club being present. Tanaka and Nishinoya face off in a muscle flexing competition, grunting violently and pulling faces at each other. Ennoshita breaks it up. Hinata and Kageyama start bickering about who was the winner. Ennoshita breaks that up too. The whole rowdy herd moves to the gym.

 Tadashi is beginning to find it easier to concentrate now that Tsukki is no longer directly in his line of sight. The thing about serving is that it’s very easy. There’s only one situation that he needs to worry about. It’s definitely a difficult situation, but he doesn’t have to change gears. Toss. Step, step, step. Hit. Toss. Step, step, step. Hit. That’s all there is to it. There’s a certain glory in being this much of a coward, Tadashi thinks dimly. He doesn’t even notice when Tsukki enters, late.

 I can get over this, Tadashi thinks, as he serves a particularly good jump floater into the empty space beside Daichi-san. I can get over this and move forward.

 His good mood doesn’t last. The moment practise ends, Tsukki grabs him by the wrist and drags him out of the gym, not even trying to be subtle. “I need to talk to you, Yamaguchi.”

 “T-Tsukki?” He asks, confused, but the taller boy doesn’t stop moving.

 Behind him he can hear Hinata’s sharp voice asking, “Where are they going? I wanna go too.”

 “You can’t,” Suga-san replies. “Leave them alone.”

 “Besides, you have to practise with me dumbass.” Kageyama’s harsh reply ends the conversation; that, or Tsukki has finally pulled them both out of hearing range.

 Tsukki stops so suddenly that Tadashi trips and falls into him, bouncing off his skinny back in an attempt to regain his footing. They’re in the small clump of trees behind the clubhouse, far from the noise of the school and its electric light. In the darkness, Tadashi can barely make out Tsukki’s features, but his pale blond hair almost seems to be glowing in the moonlight.

He really is beautiful, Tadashi thinks, then mentally kicks himself. None of that.

 “Why are we here?” He asks cautiously.

 “There something I want to tell you,” Tsukki replies, his words sounding rougher than usual, “and I don’t want anyone else to listen in on it.”

 Tadashi’s eyes are getting used to the darkness, but still not enough to pick apart the shadows on Tsukki’s face. He can’t hack his friend’s cryptic phrasing without being about to see his expression. He starts to ask Tsukki what all this is about, but the taller boy starts talking first.

 “I think I started liking you a long time ago, but I only just realized it recently.” Tadashi is frozen in shock. Tsukki, seemingly oblivious, continues, “and I realized that you’ve been my best friend for a while, and you’ve been putting up with me for a long time.” Tsukki moves into a patch of moonlight, and finally Tadashi can see his face clearly. He’s smiling, the expression barely there, not the mocking smile that he uses to torment opponents (and occasionally Hinata), nor the one he uses just to please his mother. It’s a real Tsukishima Kei smile, bright and hopeful. “Will you put up with me a little longer?”

 The whole world is spinning way too quickly and Tadashi doesn’t understand what that means. The words are barely more that jumbled sounds. Didn’t Tsukki like someone else? Hadn’t he asked Tadashi for advice just a day earlier? Tadashi takes a step back and trips over a stick. Tsukki lunges forward and catches him by the shoulder, pulling the smaller boy towards himself. Tadashi sags against him, still so busy processing that he doesn’t think to stand. “W-what?” He finally asks.

 “I’m asking you if you want to date me,” Tsukki says, kindly, but with some irritation creeping in at the edges of his voice. He doesn’t let go of Tadashi.

 “But I thought you liked someone else? You asked me for advice about confessing?” Tadashi is so confused his mind feels like a hurricane, but he can feel Tsukki’s bony arms around him and the taller boy’s ribs through his cotton shirt. It would be okay to stay here forever, he thinks to himself, the thoughts surfacing slowly, like bubbles rising from a great depth. It only lasts a moment before he regains his footing.

 Tsukki pulls away, reluctantly Tadashi thinks, but the last couple of days have taught him to be more than suspicious of his analysis. The taller boy looks down at his hands, lacing them together and twisting his long fingers around each other. “I,” he takes a deep breath, “I wanted to know whether or not you liked me before I asked, but no one would tell me something like that, so I,” he hesitates, “I tricked you a bit.”

 Tadashi wants to laugh and cry at the same time. He should be mad. He knows that the rational response right now would be to call him a manipulative bastard and storm off. But tricking him like that, well, it was just such a Tsukki thing to do.

 “I’m sorry Yamaguchi,” Tsukki says, and Tadashi doesn’t think he’s ever heard the taller boy sound as genuinely remorseful in his longest most eloquent apology spiel as he does with those three words.

 This time Tadashi can’t stop himself from giggling in the kind of terrible combination of relief and elation that most drugs are made of. It’s a slippery slope and soon he’s laughing so hard he can barely stand, and Tsukki’s vaguely offended expression just makes him laugh harder. It’s okay. It’s okay; it’s all going to be okay!

 As if reading his mind, Tsukki asks, “Yamaguchi are you okay?”

 “Sorry Tsukki,” Tadashi gasps out between burst of laughter, holding on to his stomach and staggering around to stay upright, “I’m just feeling better than I have in ages.”

 He teeters dangerously, still laughing, but Tsukki pulls him close before he falls. It’s a real hug this time. “That’s good then,” he says, his voice as happy as the warm golden colour of his eyes, “it was all worth it in the end.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Visit me at [http://h0pe-y.tumblr.com](url) if you wanna talk about sports anime or ballroom dancing or dogs or any size.  
> Update: I learned basic coding instead of studying for finals this evening just so I could fix the formatting of the author notes because they were bugging me. HTML is haaaard >:[


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